The battlefield was scarred and littered with the corpses of many.

The silence was as suffocating as the scent of decay and death.

"Where am I?" Ewylys awoke amongst the remains of comrades and enemies.

"Someone..."

"Anyone there"

"Anyone?"

"Anyone at all!!"

The mix of tortured wails rung like a siren.

"Am I dead?" Ewylys asked to no one in particular.

He tried getting to his feet, but a sharp pain crackled through his spine from his ankle. And his armor gave way.

"Damn pain." He grimaced, "Good.. good pain means I'm alive."

Then a hand reached out to him from underneath a boulder. 

"Ewylys.... Is that you my friend?" A cracked voice spoke.

Ewylys turned and saw a man, his friend– Carelyn. His lower body smashed and buried underneath the rubble of a boulder.

He had bled an awful lot of blood.

'He's going to die' Ewylys thought.

'And painfully too,'

He knelt and softly grabbed his friend's arm.

"It's alright Carelyn... I'm here. It's alright now" 

Carelyn smiled, his handsome face still looked stunning– even covered in dirt, grime and drowning in his own blood.

His bloody eyes couldn't even open. The blood had dried and cracked around his eyes.

"Ewylys I–I'm dying..." Tears leaked from the regal handsome man.

Ewylys pulled a knife out.

Whispering soothing words to his dear friend, while he unbuckled the breastplate off him.

"It's alright brother. Greet Sharon for me when you get to the other side." Then he plunged the knife in Carelyn's left chest and twisted it deep.

'A swift and clean death is a luxury many cannot afford.'

The man jerked and his muscled tightened, but only for a second.

With a strained voice he spoke as he was on the verge of death.

"He.... Will..... Not.. have me.... Cowering."

Then the stiffness uncame and he relaxed with a smile to greet death.

"Rest easy old friend.... Your quest has ended."

Tears dropped unto the red soil, Ewylys couldn't stop them.

After a while he wiped his eyes and rose to his feet.

He rounded the massive boulder and navigated his way through a sea of corpses. Some were human, others were beings that seemed to have crawled out of the realm of impossibilities.

"Well, nothing is impossible. After all, we just killed the gods," he muttered to himself as he made his way over the carcass of a gigantic monstrosity. Its head, the size of three grown men, was caved in and shattered from a blow of inhuman power. Even after all these decades, seeing a Titan up close made Ewylys shiver.

There, in the distance, a congregation of men gathered in the heart of the desolate, burning battlefield. "…ail Nata…" he could barely hear the chants and jubilation.

The Red Plains was a place of misshapen brimstone and charred trees, natural pillars rising around him, bodies littering the ground.

Few plants lived here. The few stone ridges and mounds in this arid red plains bore numerous scars. Some were shattered, blasted-out sections.

In the distance lay the remains of a magnificent city, shattered like a porcelain plate. Many of the surrounding bodies were human; many were not.

"But I survived," Ewylys thought as he hastened in the direction of the congregation. "I actually survived the last battle."

The remnants of the heroic armies gathered around the collapsed skull of an enormous demon, and on it stood seven figures. "It's the Lords themselves," Ewylys said in reverence. He searched the crowd for his dear friend, Amarak. Amarak was alive too, standing proudly at over 8 feet, in exquisite full-plate adamantine armor. It wasn't difficult to spot him in the crowd. His long dark red hair moved with the wind as if it were a part of it. His dark skin was covered in soot and dust, and parts of his beard and hair were singed.

He sensed Ewylys' gaze and turned to welcome him with a toothy grin plastered on his face. His eyes ignited like dormant coals breathed upon, slowly, then all at once illuminating his sharp face, with cheeks and nose seemingly carved from angry marble. His armor was dented in some places, including the head of a serpent engraved on his breastplate and one of the flame-shaped pauldrons.

"My good friend," he said before enveloping Ewylys in a bear hug. None would expect the usually stoic man to show emotion. Most people knew him as the Knight of the Flaming Serpent, a ruthless and fiery lord.

Ewylys looked into Amarak's eyes. He didn't see the stoic man who threw away his Vastorian god-right and forged his tribe of rebels and assembled them to fight for the heroes. Yes, this was the childhood friend that he followed through thick and thin. Not the mighty Serpent Knight—mighty, but not as mighty as the heroes themselves.

He laughed uproariously, and even Ewylys smiled. This was the boy he had grown up with, he thought; this was the Amarak Flau Rath he'd known and loved. They laughed and talked for a while before paying attention to what the Lords had to say. There, standing on the gigantic skull of a devil, seven heroes were joined by two more: Natan Skybreaker, Dynas the Sea Witch, Romun Master Forge.

From the bits they could hear, the war was about to be won. They had killed most of the gods both here and in the Northern Lands, and the East was free. "That just leaves the western continent of Barbary," Ewylys thought.

Everything was going accordingly well. The heroes had united humanity against the thieving gods that stole their birthright and had won. "Well, almost. Lords Auron, Necron, and Micah led their armies against the remaining gods on Barbary. With the other gods dead, they should win. Yeah, so we've won, and I'm still alive too."

But something felt horribly wrong about all this. He couldn't say what it was, but he could feel it deep within his bones. He noticed the ash falling from the sky, mingled with the air and wind currents. But he also noticed dozens of inky black feathers drifting along with them.

"What in the…" Ewylys muttered as he noticed a strange expression on Amarak's face. A moment later, something collided with a thunderous roar, and Ewylys was thrown into the air. A violent shockwave passed through his body, causing a short scream to escape from his mouth. He hit the ground and felt it stirring, as if a powerful earthquake was happening mere meters away. Amarak struggled to rise back to his feet, then helped Ewylys do the same.

Shards of stone flew past them like bullets, and the ash and dust were already turning into a furious whirlwind. Bodies and corpses danced through the air, some ripped and torn from debris. A cacophony of murderous steel and furious raging battle that they could only catch glimpses of as men ran away from the center of the carnage.

A couple dozen meters in front of them, where the heroes had just stood moments ago, a vast malevolent shadow rose into the sky. Inky black feathers and dark wings in a whirlwind of dark flesh and abomination. A terrifying roar rolled across the plain, and then, another shockwave hit, tearing a hole in the sky. Boiling blood suddenly streamed from above, falling on the Red Plains like vermilion rain.

"Gods… oh, heroes and lords…" Ewylys muttered in a shaky breath. As men fled in terror, something strange happened. Some men attacked other men in frenzied cold blood, and they started slaughtering the rest like sheep for supper. While some swelled and bulged, becoming hideous monsters with fangs, snouts, and claws.

"It's the Naldeans! They've betrayed us! Kill them all!" Ewylys heard a man shout. "It's Skybreaker's men… kill them…" another muffled shout. And truly, most of the attackers were Naldeans.

"But something isn't right. Naldeans were one of the few tribes that started the rebellion. Why would they betray us?"

But it was too late. Some men had already made a thin line of resistance. "Well, no time to think now." Ewylys stretched his arm and summoned his blade. In the next moment, a bangle of dark steel coiled around his wrist slithered with a blur and transformed into a magnificent longsword.

"Great Promise," the sword whispered its name into his ear. Ewylys had proved himself a champion of the heroic armies by gaining immortality by trial, and many of his deeds proved him worthy of the title of champion. The numerous scars and burn marks on his copper skin were a testament to his deeds. Though not nearly as exalted as blessed champions like Amarak, it was still enough to warrant him the boon of legendary weapons.

And so a prideful master forged him a suit of splendid armor. The intricate suits were both a boon and a trial since only those worthy of regard could unlock the suit's true potential and bear its weight. "I'm also a champion after all. My armor might be damaged, but it will hold, and my trusted sword will hold too." He turned to look at Amarak, who was focused and ready with his sword out too.

In the next moment, the attackers closed in on the thin line of men. In an instant, Ewylys severed three heads from murderous, rabid men who came too close. In the next instant, he caught a lunging beast on the tip of his sword and grunted, feeling being pushed back.

"Strong…" He sliced through the flesh of the revolting creature, then tried to land a blow on another abomination. Unfortunately, at that moment, the damaged joint of his armor finally gave out, throwing him off balance. The immaculate blade slid off the hide of the monster without leaving even a scratch on it.

Ewylys helplessly slid to the ground. Before he could move, sharp fangs closed on his shoulder, easily crushing his armor. A terrible pain tore through his side. "D—die… I am going to die!" He looked up and stared at the ugly snout of the monster that was going to kill him.

And then, the monster's head exploded into bloody chunks. He blinked as something flashed past him. It was an infernal horse made of pure fire carrying a human rider who wore intricate adamantine armor.

"Amarak…" Ewylys whispered.

Then another soldier screamed with righteous joy, "It's noble Lord Amarak! Follow him and slaughter the traitors with their abominations!"

Without ever slowing down, Amarak Flau Rath, the Flaming Serpent, continued forward, killing numerous abominations and murderous men in passing. Suddenly, the pressure on the defenders was reduced. Rider and Inferno steed flew through the mass of rabid creatures, slaughtering one after another. Some other knights joined the fray, subduing and slaughtering.

In the distance, the figures of a few rabid men swelled so large, muscles and flesh ballooned, bones broken and rearranged, skulls fractured and fused, and their bodies knitted together to form a monstrous Titan. At some point, Amarak gracefully jumped off the infernal steed's back, soaring high into the air and landing right in front of the charging Titan. Joined by other blessed knights, they clashed with the Titan.

Ewylys didn't see what happened next because the figure of the infernal knights became hidden behind the mass of abominations and men. All he perceived was a chilling, absolutely inhuman shriek that suddenly rolled across the battlefield, so loud many men like him collapsed to the ground holding their damned heads.

"Gods…"

Finally, he managed to raise himself from the ground. The battle was only starting. Ewylys would struggle to do anything with only one functioning leg and a torn shoulder that reduced the range of motion of his arm, but he was determined to do his part. Rising once again, he glanced forward and saw something chilling. No, it was not the sight of the blessed knights fighting the revolting Titan that chilled him to the bone; it was the scene of five of the heroes fighting a revolting mass of dark wings and vile flesh.

"What is that?… a god?"

Just looking at the being, Ewylys felt like he was being struck in the head with a sledgehammer, and he collapsed on one knee. He suddenly had a headache and felt dizzy. His vision went red, and there seemed to be liquid flowing from the tip of his nose. The tip of his nose and the corners of his lips were covered in fresh blood. His face was extremely pale, and his body was wavering as though he were about to collapse.

Then he sensed something titanic happening. Forcing a scream, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Run! Fall back!!"

But it was too late. He felt the heroes collide with the being at the center of the battlefield with such force that its surface swayed like water. The shockwave of the impact was so fierce that it instantly obliterated the battlefield, blew away the top layers of the soil, and made the ground crumble into dust. The ground itself split open, a wide crack spreading to every end. The Plains shuddered… and then crumbled, large pieces of stone breaking off and flying into the darkness as more and more cracks appeared, and then everything tore apart. It felt as though the world was ending.

All Ewylys could sense was that he was sent rolling down once again, this time even more violently than before. Only this time, instead of soil or stone, what he found beneath was… nothing. The ground disappeared, and Ewylys found himself falling. Bloodied, mangled, and weak, he plummeted into the abyss as all around him, devastation reigned.

Then he caught a glimpse of the unholy being the remaining heroes battled, then he felt something in his mind and soul snap. The sounds of the fighting disappeared far above. The destruction disappeared, too, as well as the last remnants of the light. That was all Ewylys remembered as his consciousness faded.